


In Your Shoes

by EveryEmpireFalls



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Timeline, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facial, Facials, Lazy Sex, Missionary Position, Modern Era, Music, Oral Sex, POV First Person, POV Second Person, Playful Sex, Reader-Insert, Romance, Rough Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, loving, request, romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryEmpireFalls/pseuds/EveryEmpireFalls
Summary: An anthology of 1st and 2nd person narratives putting you, the reader, into your own erotica action! EXPLICIT and diverse content is to be expected. Tags and trigger warnings are given for each chapter, but are not extensive to provide for some surprise and avoid spoiling.This collection is primarily request-driven: you the readers request pairings, hook-ups, or other such scenarios with a certain character.Additional details are included in the first chapter’s foreword. It is a bit lengthy, but one-time. If you are just skimming/searching or are not interested in requesting, the first paragraph of the foreword should be sufficient for you to continue onto the writing to see if you want to read my work.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager - Relationship, Eren Yeager/Reader, Mikasa Ackerman & Reader, Mikasa Ackerman - Relationship, Mikasa Ackerman/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Naturally, because we are inserting the reader into the AoT/SnK universe, some out-of-character content and circumstances are to be expected. I will generally try to keep the character close to their demonstrated personalities, excepting any specifics you request. Request details will largely if not wholly override canon in order to create the story. Aside from writing exceptions, I will still try to continue extrapolating their personalities into whatever situations you request. This may lengthen the time to fill the request if it is with a character I am less familiar with and/or uses unique or otherwise esoteric presumptions. Each chapter will be prefaced with the basic request details, such as appearing characters, temporal setting, and changes/details to character behavior, the environment, and the like.  
> Requested users/names WILL NOT be stated, the only exception specifically being requested to be publicized by the requester for whatever reasons of their choosing. I’ll guarantee any request to be a minimum of ~2,300 words. Any more will be happenstance. I *think* these will generally be shorter than my character x character collections. Time will tell.  
> If I get past ~12 standing requests at any one time, I may start to consolidate/collapse them in the interest of time spent. So, 2-3 requests may be filled by a single chapter so long as the requests are compatible with one another.  
> -  
> To request: Simply write to me with the minimum details given below - you can do this by leaving a comment/review on this story, or any other of my anthologies, (but specify in that case) on either my fanfiction.net or my archiveofourown.org accounts (same account name for both platforms: everyempirefalls). You may also PM me via FF.net ~everyempirefalls or via PM on Tumblr @evryempirefalls if you prefer (which I advise if you want full confidentiality).  
> -  
> PLEASE INCLUDE THE MINIMUM 5 DETAILS IN ANY REQUEST YOU SEND ME:  
> 1) The character(s) you want to be written with (Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Levi, et cetera),  
> 2) which narrative perspective (1st person, 2nd person, or 3rd person),  
> 3) the narrative tense (past, present, or future), the type (contemporaneous, recollection, et cetera), and narrative technique (omniscient, unreliable, stream-of-consciousness, et cetera),  
> 4) what point in time the setting takes place (AoT canon, Modern AU, et cetera),  
> 5) any ‘no go’ zones for your requests (i.e. triggers).  
> If you are unfamiliar or uncertain with any of these terms, don’t stress! Simply leave a ? in the places for what you are unfamiliar or uncertain with. We can discuss the details you are looking for and I can adapt and inform you however necessary (which is also part of why I suggest you use PMs) 😊  
> Beyond the 5 minimum details, details are at your discretion (so long as the Rules apply) or may be left to me to create. If for any reason you are unsure if your request errs on a rule, ask me. Unless you are requesting incest or underage-adult sex, you are free to message me and ask/discuss your idea even if it ebbs against my rules below! Likewise, I am also open to ‘writing challenges’ or otherwise obscure or rare formats.  
> -  
> Fair warning: 2nd person is a natural medium for me. As is 1st person stream-of-consciousness. Other variations are less easygoing for me. But that is also me in my head, so you be the judge as I get more posts online. And tell me, please! 😊  
> -  
> Rules: ALL CHARACTERS ARE ASSUMED TO BE ADULTS with their most up-to-date personalities or their traits upon character death, unless specifically requested otherwise. I will not write any underage x adult parings. Only exception being a very minor age difference such as a 17.5 w/ 18-year-old.  
> I will not write any incest (not that it should be much of an issue for Character x Reader, anyways – though, this still applies to non C x R requests you may have for me, too).  
> I write heterosexual couples (least, for the time being). This is simply a pragmatic matter for me – I am hetero myself and that is what I am most familiar with; I am unsure I could do you/the characters justice by writing LGBTQ+ genders, most particularly in any non-sexual contact as I am sure there are subtleties to the relationship dynamics that I am unfamiliar with. Maybe I am over/under estimating things, though.  
> Any non-consensual sex will be assumed to be consensual non-consent unless explicitly requested (and will be noted in the forward with a T/W); i.e. ‘standing/persistent consent’ where the couple has previously discussed scenarios or circumstances where implicit or explicit consent is assumed without the need for conversational or body-language confirmation. The same applies for any forms of physical harm (consensual, known mutually, and is ultimately respectful of all involved parties).  
> All that said, happy reading!

Not terribly satisfied with this one. It’s been a while since I’ve written in 1st person, substantially… its like a muscle. I’ll just have to work it more!

T/W and tags: semi-public, doggy style, oral sex, and facial.

Request circumstances: 1st person perspective, Female Reader x Eren Jeager. Modern AU. If Mikasa appears she is close friends with Eren and the reader.

* * *

It started off as part of nearly any other hangout nearer the end of the day. The ‘wind down’ – with the core four of us hanging out in our living room as we bickered a bit about what to do with the remaining day. Eren and I were on the couch together while Mikasa took the spare chair on our right and Armin on our left. Though, Armin didn’t really add to any of the debate at all and was only around for a few minutes.

Something about a date? I’m not sure, honestly. He didn’t say all that much but seemed in good spirits despite his reticence. But good for him, if that was the case. He deserves a good gal. Though I know he’s still had his eye on Annie, I kinda doubt he was seeing her. I think he would’ve been cheerier and more outgoing if that was the case. But he could have been trying not to get his hopes up, too. And he can be pretty good about holding the cards close to the vest when he wants to. Which gets into why he would hide it from us… but eh.. not really relevant here.

Eren put on some exploration documentary that was mildly interesting since we weren’t really getting anywhere deciding what to do; I think it was in the jungles of Borneo, but I admit my attention waned pretty quickly. When Eren brushed his hand over my thigh absentmindedly while watching the show, my drive spooled up without any more input. My back tensed up slightly as I felt his fingers stimulate me and I looked at him intently, expecting him to be looking at me already. But he was still pretty focused on the show.

So, I nudged his hand between my legs. He looked at me almost immediately as he felt my heat on his fingers. And probably the squish of familiar, intimate skin. I say probably because his fingers only brushed over me very briefly in the moment, but he knows how quick my drive can roar to life; and it’s far from his first rodeo, especially since he should know the look I gave him pretty well.

I hid his hand with my right leg, pinching my foot to my butt to keep Mikasa from seeing his hand as I leaned toward her just enough to look back at Eren and to conceal some of his activity. Thankfully she seemed distracted, as I heard her phone ring a text tone; I could see the phone light switch on as she pulled it out and presumably looked at the message. Convenient timing, that.

His right brow raised in interest as our eyes caught, briefly looking at Mikasa then to me. I think she had just lit a cigarette too, but I paid little mind. My guess is that he was hesitant to ‘get going’ while she was around, and right next to us...

I ran my fingers through my hair, eyes widened just a bit to pull in his attention while I grinned at him with the far corner of my mouth. He caught on, as expected.

Though his eyes flicked back to Mikasa a bit cautiously, he engaged me with a quiet grin. His fingers pressed into the fabric between my legs as he turned back to the TV to keep the status quo. I felt the warm rush sink through my chest and legs as soon as his fingers began to caress me. My eyes rolled around a bit as his fingers dug in; long, firm streaks of his fingers up and down my valley as he occasionally stole eye contact with me in the gloomy room.

I had to choke back a moan with an awkward cough after a minute or so; the warmth had grown to an outright heat. I think my hair did a pretty good job of hiding my already concealed facial expressions. The cough may have been weird, but it shouldn’t have gone anywhere else. I quickly smelled cigarette smoke shortly after the first cough. And not just a light whiff, but a heavy drag that hung in the air. It stung at my nose a bit more than usual – I held my breath and lightly exhaled to keep the smoke from my lungs.

I let myself refocus a bit as Eren’s pacing slacked off some, allowing myself a glance at Mikasa.

Her eyes were focused on the telly, but her body was more tense and rigid than normal. Eyes glassy, deep as the faint glow of a cig illuminated her face. Even from the shallow, peripheral angle I could see of her face. Which, I feel a bit ashamed to think more only now about it in additional detail. Something far more substantial was probably on her mind. I did consider asking her if she was okay, because even with my distraction, I could see _something_ was off… but I didn’t catch the severity at the time. And Eren drew my attention back pretty drastically as I felt his hand unbutton my pants and slip his hand under the fabric. And I didn’t think I could do both.

It could wait.

My eyes shut heavily, feeling his fingers coast over the thin layer keeping his skin from mine carving deep into my mind. They creased into my folds, making my arms flex as the electricity shot through the outer edges of my arms. I stole a glance at him the same time as he did me. And his fingers really dug in as he fully committed himself to the idea.

His arm stretched over the couch as I hid our fun. Only a few strokes later he pulled the last bit of fabric aside. A bit uncomfortable because of the angle, but it felt too good to really care anyhow. Once his fingers got their first coat of lubricant on them, I felt like my legs were starting to shake trying to contain myself with the feeling of his fingers just jutting through my whole body.

Another mantle of smoke curled over from the right side of the room as I felt his finger creep downward and begin teasing a penetration. I looked at him through the edge of my vision; he was outwardly completely focused on the TV still. But his fingers absolutely screamed otherwise.

Considering how much my core had heated up, he was probably catching only every other word.

After a few moments I realized I was holding my breath, trying to keep a blissful moan suppressed. I coughed again. Though this time it was legitimately because of the rather heavy scent of cigarette smoke hanging in the air bothering my lungs.

The blur of Mikasa’s phone light illuminated her side of the room, giving something of a horror-movie feel through the light haze. I noticed her tapping on her phone for a few breaths as I steadied myself, again recognizing how long I was holding my breath. An even breath brought the awareness that I was frowning, too. I waved my eyebrows, trying to release the tension and free up my expression.

“Mika, you mind taking your cig outside?” Eren asked her rather suddenly. I didn’t think he was all that bothered by it, but I guess he was. It didn’t seem like he was trying to get rid of her or anything. We had spent most of the day together already and there wasn’t any tension or unease that I was aware of.

Mikasa didn’t acknowledge him. Actually, she just stood up and pinched it out with her fingers, even though we had an ash tray for her on the coffee table. She said, “I’ve gotta’ go, actually,” rather plainly. Then grabbed her coat and walked out without adding any more detail.

Eren asked if we were still set on going out on Sunday before she walked out of range. She agreed that she was still in, but whatever it was that was bothering her still seemed to be at the forefront of her mind. Her response was pretty terse, just a quick “Yeah,” then she was out the door.

We heard the front screen door clatter shut, but it took us a second or two before we looked at each other. Eren looked first, but I was less than a heartbeat behind. I think we could feel some indecision about letting her go without asking more questions about how she was doing. But we were also pretty hot and heavy already…

He kept eye contact with me as his fingers paused for a moment, the pair of us thinking in our own heads about the moment in our own ways. But I felt his fingers rub around my clit with just a pinch more movement, and that became our answer in an instant. Or at least mine.

I could see the look spread over his face far faster than his resuming pace. My leg dropped aside, working my fingers under the hem of my jeans and quickly working them down until he had easy access. Eren ripped the clothes away from me before I got them off completely, shooting them into the wall with a thump. He moved up closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling my back up to his chest until he could look over my shoulder at his fingers coaxing my head around in rapidly shifting directions. My head slumped to his shoulders as I felt the warm embrace of the early waves of euphoria sink into my body without restraint.

His arm braced around my shoulder as I felt his teeth cut into the fabric of my shirt. The dense, warm feeling of saliva soaking into my shirt as he bit into my collar with a firm pressure. The first audible moan shot from my throat as he slipped a pair of fingers into me with an unrestrained haste. I could feel his fingers blazing in and out of me, all blurring together into one long, epic, quail of pleasure radiating through my body.

It felt great, but it didn’t take me long to recognize that he wasn’t trying to get me off right away. Or at all.

Least, not with his fingers.

I felt his hand wrap around my neck as his fingers continued. His teeth scraped over my bare skin, the warmth of his head pressed between my shoulder and head. My legs convulsed once, and his hand disappeared as quickly as things started.

Next thing I knew was that our bodies blurred and his pants were off. He had me bent over on all fours on the couch cushions, tugging at my hips until I felt his erection between my legs. A few strokes of himself between my legs teased me just long enough to make me throw my head to the side and look back at him anxiously.

Eren’s hand wrapped around my hair, pulling into a tight grip and lifting me into the air just enough for my hands to leave the couch as I felt him spear into me from behind. My eyesight went black for a moment as my eyelids closed responsively, bathing in the intense feeling of his hard shaft grating through my insides like an amorous wildfire. My head went spinning within a few strokes.

My lungs felt crushed under the weight of my breasts exploding in a sensitive glamor, every bit of the thin fabric over my chest acting like a thousand hands. And that was before his grip on my hair tightened and his other hand snaked under my arms and groped my right breast like I was going to die without it.

But I was living. And that really stepped up the storm in my head another notch. I realized I couldn’t feel my legs below my knees as he ploughed himself into me with a blistering pace.

Either he was going to explode, or I was. At the moment I didn’t think he could keep it up – no way he could handle my tight walls suckling at his cells. But boy was I fuckin’ wrong.

The tightness in my chest intensified as I felt my brain pull me away from reality; colors swirling over my vision, even with my eyes open. My inner thighs abuzz, tingling like a furious tropical rainstorm of tepid water droplets splattering over my skin. Even though I couldn’t feel my lower legs, I could still feel the acute curl of my toes toward the soles of my feet.

Actually, I think it was because my feet were cold. The only cold part of my body. As every cell north of them was either on fire or damn close to it.

I heard him grunt something as his hand switched to groping my left breast even more intensely. My head was too far gone to cobble it together. His teeth scraped against my neck just as I felt him bury himself within me, fully.

It was too much to possibly resist. The combination threw me off the edge.

My legs spasmed and shook; arms nearly completely limp despite the opposing sensations. The traces of color flashing through my vision gave way to full on streaks of color eking through not just my vision, but my very consciousness. The flash of hot and cold over the whole of my body came in waves just the briefest of moments later. It felt like my breast would melt his hand. Then freeze it. Then like my whole body would just straight set his hair of fire.

Frankly, I couldn’t much remember the rest of that climax. It all just crashed and collapsed and imploded in on itself in a swirling, overlapping turmoil as rushes of excited nerves coursed up and down my body.

He dropped me. I fell to the couch, still experiencing the waves of hot and cold coursing through nearly the whole of my body while I laid in a daze. I could feel him step off the couch, but it didn’t weigh on my mind because I was still lost in my ecstasy.

What did catch my attention was him dragging me off the couch and, roughly, helping me to my feet. But only just long enough for him to throw me over his shoulder and carry me into our bedroom. I faintly recall thinking that my legs were rather wet and were probably soaking into his shirt.

He threw me onto the bed. The jostle caught my attention, consolidating my awareness on my senses again.

I caught eyes with him.

He had that determined, concupiscent mood on his face as plain as my recent orgasm. I licked my lips, goading him on just a tad more even though he was already fired up. My legs and chest absolutely burst into a fireball of sensitivity as his hand grasped my scalp, hairs tight and twisted in his fingers as they dragged me off the bedspread and onto the floor. Eren manhandled me until I was sitting up against the side of the bed frame. I looked up at him, the determined and supremely interested look alight on his face as he began rubbing his cock over my face. I stuck my tongue out to taste his skin, and any precum I could coopt. It didn’t take him long, or rather, he couldn’t resist for long. My eyes flickered at him tentatively, daring him to resist letting me taste him sooner than later.

Even with my head pinned against the bed I could still tip my jaw up and tease my tongue up the bottom of his shaft. I could see his legs tense, recoiling at the inviting feeling of my tongue streaking up his mass. He held me still and let me work the tip of my tongue up his length while I looked up at him. His distraction allowed me to creep my hands up his legs and pull on the back of his thighs a touch to coax him into stepping closer. But he resisted, clearly not wanting to give me even a slight bit of control. Even if it was just me nudging him a bit to encourage things.

Eren’s hand crossed over my vision and clutched the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head without haste. He tossed my shirt aside and looked down at me with a building smile, “Take your bra off.”

I held eye contact with him for a moment, then let my hands slowly fold behind me at the same pace he removed my shirt. The clip unclasped and I threw the hook side of the bra from my back, letting it peel off my body unevenly. It took a few seconds to completely unstick from my damp skin, drooping from my right breast before falling off into my lap. He picked it up with his toes and whisked it away.

“Spread your legs,” he nodded his head upward with some anticipation. I pursed my lips and waited a moment to add to his tension. But then obeyed with the same delayed pace he started by removing my shirt. Just a bit, though. Not much more than the length of his foot. His head tilted to the side a bit, clearly displeased with my malicious compliance. With my head still held against the mattress, I shook my chin back and forth a shade to taunt him and make him be more… effective.

He stooped over, slow and deliberate. A hand coasted between us, his hand cupping between my legs and teasing his fingers around my entrance in a few tentative circles, before using the distracting sensation tingling between my legs to shove my leg to the side some more.

I half squeaked, half squealed at him from the combination of pleasure of his hand teasing me and the pleasure of making him touch me himself, not just commanding me with his words. It made his brows flutter, clearly drawing his interest.

My jaw ground around a bit, making my cheeks flex tightly as I flickered my eyes at him. He stepped closer, his fingers digging even deeper into my hair and tightening his pull. I could feel the roots of my hair screaming at me in pain, but it wasn’t painful. Anything but; it was a turn on, completely transcribed into the intense feeling of sexual ecstasy carving through my body. Especially my chest.

I felt his hard shaft brush over my face, him lording over me with a satisfied grin on his face. Letting my mouth hinge open a bit, I hoped for him to use me. And he did. Slow. Pressing his head to my lips and gradually leaning into me until I felt my lips pop down around the back of his head. I flicked my tongue along the crease of skin below his head. He was still wet from thrashing me on the couch, but I didn’t get any taste of precum. I flicked my eyes up at him again, tightening my lips around him with some disappointment.

His hand contacted my face, a firm slap shaking his head around in my mouth. I recoiled and blinked at him as I bit back a twisted grin. His hand crooked around my jaw, holding my head up to look at him affectionately. My tongue flattened out under the skin in my mouth, gently stroking back and forth under him. His grin widened, and he leaned into me more. I felt his head press to the back of my mouth and start sliding into my throat. I had to tip my head forward a bit to let him persist. His grip on my hair faded enough for me to feel him fill my throat. I rippled my throat muscles a bit to cajole a bit of cum from him.

It worked nicely; I felt a dribble of warm fluid ooze from the tip of his erection at the back of my throat, the pre-cum slicking down the back of my throat as he continued to press himself into my mouth a moment later. I hummed in delight, which only revved him up even more. His grip on my hair tightened again and he pulled back on my hair and shunted his foot under one of my legs and yanked my back away from the bed some more. He stepped over me and bore down on me. I felt him swell in my mouth and throat, making me choke suddenly as he cut off my breathing with his engorged schlong all the way back down my throat, tickling the back of my neck. My face swelled red, I could see it in his look.

I choked again, and he held himself in me for another breath. Then quickly retreated as I gasped for air, chest heaving up and down as my vision blurred and refocused. His hand rubbed around the undersides of my breasts, circling inward until he pinched my nipples. I bit my lips, my eyes rolling slightly as the feeling radiated through my body in sharp, distinct jabs. But I couldn’t wait for long, as he assumed. I had caught my breath well enough and he was tugging on my hair and pushing his cock down my throat again.

My hand slumped, trying to be discrete as I snuck my fingers between my legs and began to rub my clit with a mild heat. But he caught me almost immediately. His hand ripped my arm away, throwing it against the side of the bed and forcing himself down my throat again. “Nah ah, my turn, slut.” he denied me, “You already got yours.” He began pumping himself into and out of my mouth, just far enough to press his head into the front of my throat. His pace sped up pretty quickly, letting himself get a little farther down my throat each stroke until I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, the throbbing mass in my mouth and throat choking off my air moment by moment.

His grip on my hair released suddenly, but then came back with the same roaring force as he renewed his grip and lolled his head around in his feeling of using my throat. I could see his toes curl out of the corner of my vision, legs flexing and the rest of his body following. I took a deep breath between strokes, ready to feel his cock throbbing spurts of hot semen down my throat. But it didn’t come.

Instead, he pulled out and twisted my head to the side, grabbing himself and rapidly stroking himself to his finish.

He grunted loudly as the first jet of cum splattered over my face, a touch over my nose and eyes. Eren immediately adjusted himself, pulling me over to the side a bit more and aiming his second shot at my neck. Then the third at my chest. Then the remainder back at my face. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out as he returned to my face, suppressing a grin just to smite him a bit. Another grunt finished off the last stroke.

I looked up at him placidly after his grip waned. Waiting for him to break before I did, because I knew he would.

And he did.

Eren leaned in and squinted at me. I kept an innocent look about myself, tilting my head to the side a bit and shook my body side to side to get a rise out of him.

His hand smeared the cum over my face, dropping to my chest and coating my breasts with his semen just as readily. I bit back a grin, looking up at him more intensely as I tried to funnel the ticklish feeling flowing up from my legs into taunting him.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, surprised at my unusual stoicism. “Oh?” he started, “Nothing to say this time?”

I let a wry grin creep in. Just a bit.

“Perhaps another round, then?” he suggested, with just a tiny hint of hollowness to it. Not enough for me to believe in the moment. His arm outstretched like an offering.

I snorted, sarcastically adding, “ _Oh noo!”_ thinking I would be in for another whirlwind soon. I accepted his hand, or rather used his arm as an assist whether he intended it or not. His sticky hand attached to my side as our eyes connected and held one another’s attention. I leaned in toward him, but he dodged me.

A quick twist of his arm left a red mark on my butt, the arm pointing to the shower suggestively, “Ah ahh. Go wash yourself off… I’m not going to touch a dirty slut like you..” He finished by tracing his fingers over my hips, his fingers gliding between my legs again and teasing me with a seductive wriggle.

I hummed at him, still wanting a kiss. But I also knew well enough that I wouldn’t get it. Not yet. So, I slid off to the shower, rocking my hips a bit as I strut away to try and lure him in with me.

To my disappointment, he did not appear as I pulled out the towel and stepped into the shower. The steam began filling the shower stall and my mind evaporated back to the couch, thinking of the wild orgasm that even then I only remember what I’ve remembered now… It gave me another buzz. One that I felt more in the back of my throat and in my chest, beneath my breasts.

Several minutes passed as I began to wash myself, without any sign of him joining me. Least, _not yet._ I know he has his moments where he will get his rocks off and about face nearly as quickly, but he often came back for seconds too…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: 2nd person perspective (w/ some traces of 3rd), fluff/romantic, missionary(kinda), and cum swallow.  
> Request circumstances: 2nd person narrative, additional fluff, Eren x Female Reader. Modern AU.  
> Requester, if you would like more fluff, feel free to let me know and I can return to edit more in.

You lay in the evening sun, gracefully warming in your bed as your eyes meander over Eren looking at himself in the mirror as he washes his hands. The steady heat of the sun reminds you of the waning day, a day spent largely unpacking the last of your things into the new home.

Eren catches you looking at him through the corner of his eye. A quick grin spreads over his face as he recognizes your attention.

“Whatcha’ lookin’ at, Babe?” Eren smirks, cutting off the water and beginning drying his hands on the hand towel beside the sink.

Your lips terse, feeling the warm, refreshing feeling of finally living together bubbling up through your body into your consciousness. Burying your mouth in the pillow closest to your head, you clutch it to your face as you crawl around until you face him. You mumble back at him through the pillow with a teasing tone, “Mmm.. nothin’!”

His grin spreads, knowing full well you were eyeing him up and down while he was simply cleaning his hands. He pushes the bathroom door fully open and walks through, feet falling onto the fresh carpet with dull thuds. You skirt towards the headboard a bit as he walks over to you.

Eren’s hand skims over your shoulder and onto the small of your back as he sits on the bed beside you, still smiling while giving you a gentle embrace. You can feel your eyes glittering as you tilt yourself to the side just enough to look up at him looking back down at you.

A moment of silence passes as your eyes meet. Butterflies in your stomachs creep up through the chest as it again dawns on you that you finally have your own home, your own time together without distractions or separation.

The buzz creeps in from the inside of your thighs and you have trouble suppressing an enthusiastic grin. You can see his cheeks shift - obviously his cognizance of your suppressed smile.

He cocks a brow at you, watching you as you roll onto your back and rest your head on the pillow more comfortably as you look up at him gleefully. The hand that was once on the small of your back flows over your side to your belly as he holds his hand over your movements.

“What are you into,” Eren begins, letting his hand explore over the lower part of your body, “my little Minx?”

You feel his fingers dip into the warm contour between your legs. Just enough for the brush of his skin against the fabric to rustle through and for you to feel the rushing buzz condense between your thighs.

Your eyelids flutter slightly, pupils momentarily shrinking to a pinpoint before expanding under the warm tickle tracing up through your body, settling into mind distinctly. Your legs clench around his fingers half instinctively, half intentionally.

His fingers wriggle as the intrigued brow deepens across the whole of his face, a smile creeping back in along with it. You suppress a faint, high pitched moan as the tingling spreads, accentuated by the dexterity of his digits brushing against you. It still comes out as a very light, short chirp despite your efforts.

Biting back the urge to chew your lips and grind your thighs against his hand, you merely tighten them both and look up at him for a fleeting moment before responding. “I… don’t get your meaning?” you lead rhetorically.

Despite your effort, he still catches a subtle movement of your lips as you graze your teeth over them. His eyes narrow, knowing. You feel his fingers flex into you, slow and deliberate. Scraping against the seam of the crotch stitch in your pants.

The gentle rumble vibrates through your whole body, amplified by your heightened sensitivity. You’re now sure he could see teeth press into lips, your eyes hazing and narrowing slightly as the sensation courses through your body and peels away some of your brain power.

“Is there…” Eren starts again, rumbling his fingers over the seam again, this time digging his fingernails into the fabric even more ambitiously than last, “something I can do…” He trails off for a moment, letting a long scrape breeze through you while hassling his shoulders before finishing, “for you, my Love?”

This time you’re sure he sees your staggered breathing too, the uneven rise and fall of your chest as your mind soaks in the preliminary foreplay while disregarding its other duties. But no matter, you’re confident you are still a few steps ahead of him.

You leave his enticing behind, focusing on the next few minutes in a silence calculated to draw him into your own alluring. A finger raises to his chest and you draw oblong circles around his pecks aimlessly with a slight smile drawn over your face. Eventually your fingers grow ‘tired’ and coast lower and lower to his abs.

In the silence he tries to pull his fingers from your legs, but your grip is still tight and he struggles some to do it comfortably. You can see his fingers are still white from the pressure when he does, eventually, succeed in freeing himself. Again, you bite back the overwhelming desire to bite your lip freely.

Using your peripheral vision you can see his hand sluggishly tracing just above your body toward your head. You can see it in his eyes and in his shoulders that his fingers have no intent of touching your face, though. He is going to give your breast a warm, full handed, and full hearted grope and savor every second of it.

Working with his slow pace, you raise your legs until your feet touch against your thighs, selling the movement as a growing sexual tension by letting your knees fall to their sides and your hands mirroring your flanks as they cruise down to your butt.

In the moment it takes you to reconsider the alluring feeling of his hands cupping your breasts against the want to stay ahead of him and tease him on for some time, he makes half the decision for you. His hands sweep up from the bottom of your breasts, scooping around them with a single firm touch through the fabric.

Your eyes roll a bit more as you savor the feeling of his hands on you, full and informed while your lower body warms with a cold heat. His head tips forward, briefly touching your foreheads together before locking your lips in a loving kiss.

Consciousness fragments; one reconstructing your scheming and the other enthralled in the joyful delight of a private, soulful kiss.

His grip grows deeper, more pressure on your boobs seeping through your chest and exciting your nerves up and down without discrimination. You engage both fragments of mind.

Pressing your head into the kiss, lifting from the pillow to make him withdraw some ways. While still reveling the tender moment that will be briefly interrupted with a little hide-and-seek.

You can feel his hands relax, one completely leaving your chest. Sensing the warmth of his arm flowing down to your belly with an anticipatory haste.

So you move to cut him off before he does, or says, anything more.

Your legs push from under yourself and you shoot yourself from the bed, tossing the pillow to the headboard and rolling up from the floor at a steady pace. Turning around as you reach the bedroom door to the hallway, you ask, “I’m getting some tea. Would you like some?” You tip your head to the side ever so subtly while you look back at him and finish your question, continuing you pacing for the doorway.

You don’t actually want tea. And you do have a plan. But he can hear the first part clearly enough as your voice started high, fading to an uncharacteristic, lower mumble. The second part you can see him briefly begin piecing together in the last moments before you disappear from sight.

The hand that was previously on your belly slumps to the bed as he processes your solicitation. A second of silence passes as you are out of the door and around the oblique hall corner. He sees your body flash out of sight and catches onto your ruse.

He springs from the bed and appears in the doorway a moment later, but you’ve already – albeit barely – managed to get out of sight in time before he could have plausibly seen you.

You watch through the double hand-slits of a moving box, seeing him stand in the doorway musing to himself to try and figure where you dashed off to. He steps off to his right, walking toward the will-be office and spare bedrooms. The fading thuds rumble through the house, audibly signaling his departure even if you couldn’t watch him walk off.

Your mind skims over the next few options; _Hmm. To move out now, or later? How deeply is he going to look there? How long before he recognizes I’m in the living room?_

You step out from behind the box, cautiously tiptoeing up to the center hallway and peeking around the corner after grabbing a piece of crumpled packing paper. A blur of his leg catches your eye as he transitions between rooms.

“Psst!” you tease your location, turning your head away from the hallway to disguise your positioning.

You can feel him turn around through the floor, rapid and solidly pausing for any other hint. Despite not being able to see him, you know he is squinting in thought, trying to mentally track you down and surprise you as quickly as possible without moving until needed.

A scrape of the packing paper on the wall besides you draws him forward. Leaning back just as you see his leg around a door, you flush yourself against the wall you’re hiding behind and look around to confirm where to distract him next.

Acting quickly and hoping he isn’t looking right into the hallway just yet, you throw the paper against the nearest kitchen wall, the one holding keychains hanging from a mounting board. Loud clinking fills the room, echoing through the house. His footsteps are lighter as he leaves the room, but not so delicate that you miss him moving. You skirt around the corner into the near side of the living room and watch his back pass through the hallway towards the kitchen.

He eyes the keys, still swirling and dangling from their wall mounts and recognizes the diversion as he sees the paper on the floor. You make a break for the bedroom, quietly leaping through the hallway and rolling into the room on the floor to dissipate any noise you can. A quick shuffle has you around the far end of the bed’s footboard.

Silence ensues as you can’t hear him walking around at all.

You dip your head to the floor and look under the bed through the doorway for any hints of his presence. A rustle comes from the living room.

A few seconds pass as you sit semi upright behind the bed, looking around at the quasi-unpacked things still loitering near the outskirts of the room. A quiet snicker to yourself as you roll up a piece of packing paper into an oblong tube and creep up to the bedroom door. Hiding behind the doorframe and aiming the tube back into the kitchen, you quietly call out, “Baabbbeeee” just loud enough to hope that he hears it. But just quiet enough that he can’t pinpoint its source.

His footsteps sound louder, more sure of himself this time as he sweeps through the living room and into the hallway. Once you hear him back in the kitchen you switch sides, skipping to the opposite side of the doorway and cupping the makeshift loudspeaker to your lips, “I’mm waitingg…”

You throw aside the paper and drop to prone beside the bed, quickly shuffling underneath into the open pocket. Between your quick movements and his more subtle shifting, you can’t hear or see his reaction. You swing yourself around, nearly facing the doorway well enough to see the bottom quarter or so of the entryway, save for a sliver of the left side for the doorframe hidden behind a dislocated box.

Feeling a tad daring, you let out a long, steady whistle with your head against the floor, looking up into the bottom of the mattress to muffle the sound. You wait, a mild impatience setting in as your own plan begins to work against your own interest.

The springs of the mattress above you flex suddenly as Eren jumps onto the bed, the whole of the bed flexing as he lays flat on the bed.

_Ah, so he’ll just wait me out now…_

A few breaths pass.

A few breaths turns into a minute.. Two… Then three minutes. You begin to curse your own arrangement.

The springs creek above you ever so slightly. You tip your head back towards the doorway, trying to think of a way to keep control of his movements.

A snug quip of panic shoots though your body as you feel a hand latch around your ankle. Eren yells out, “Gotcha!” as he tugs you from under the bed. You roll around as the safe panic fades away, worming over the ground until half your body peeks out from under the bed. He continues his greeting as you begin to show yourself from under the bed, “Hello, my hidden Minx!”

Eren greets you, his head and one arm poked out over the edge of the bed as he beams a wide grin at you. “Hi-ya sexy, doing something?” the one hand that routed you from your hiding tickling against your chin in a teasing victory.

You pucker your lips, quietly scraping your teeth over their confines as you look up at him innocently, “Waiting.”

His brow raises again, “Ah-ha..” You feel his fingers leave your jaw and trace down the centerline of your body.

You tilt your head aside concisely, “Maybe.”

Eren’s fingers linger over your thighs without touching you. Close enough to _feel_ their presence without actually feeling them…

The previously mild impatience creeps up again, this time more of a rolling boil than an active sizzling. Your legs rise from beneath the bed until knees even with the bed. Biting your lip again as you fail to suppress your ardor, you flick your legs to the side and whip them behind his head in a flash.

Wrapping around the back of his neck and shoulders, you contort your legs and shimmy yourself backwards, dragging him from the bed. He yelps a muffled surprise into your thigh and flops to the ground in a tangled mess of extremities, his head solidly caught between your legs. You lift your butt from the floor just enough to present yourself to his face with little subtlety as he composes himself.

He flashes a grin at you, wrapping his arms around your legs as he reminds you, “You still have your pants on.”

You suppress a smirk and shrug at him, “Soo… change that.”

His fingers graze over the blue of your jeans and work the attachments at the hem above your waist. A few seconds later he’s struggling to remove your tight fitting pants from your legs. You give a quick assist, skirting your fingers under the remaining fabric and catching it up to his efforts.

Reaching your feet, you straighten them to help a bit more before you are free of the fabric’s confines. Idly letting a finger curl through your hair, you keep up the innocent act while feeling the suppressed inner desire continuing to bubble up through you with little to restrain it.

But instead of feeling his lips seal around you – or his fingers glide into you – he grins back at you, rolling around awkwardly until he rests his back against the bed. “I still have mine on, too.”

You narrow your eyes at his tit-for-tat taunt, ruffled by the delay of expectant stimulation.

Grumbling loudly to make your distaste known, he ignores you and enjoys the feeling of your fingers tugging at his pants hem. A moment of criss-crossing forces unfurls his growing member from its restraints.

You tug his pants off him much more gracefully than he did you, then lean back toward your original position.

He inches forward. And you inch backward on your elbows and butt.

Another scoot – another scoot.

Catching that you’re going to continue teasing him, he launches himself at you.

In a flurrious moment you feel his arms breeze around your legs, clasping the sides of your shirt and tugging them over your head and arms while drawing your legs to your body and hands together all in one fell swoop. You cry out in surprise and playfulness, suddenly feeling the press of his warm, firm head against your entrance.

His arms clasp around yours, holding your wrists together with your shirt behind your head as he presses himself into you. You groan through your upturned shirt as the pressure waves of eclectic pleasure rumble through your body.

He fills you; full, deep, swift.

Your chest quivers and shrinks, as do your arms and legs. Mind.. steeping in… _awemmesome_.. A coo drips from your lips as your brain sublimates.

Eren’s long, smooth initial stroke holds for several seconds as you feel and see his forehead press to yours through your shirt.

Then he breaks into a quick pace, drawing himself in and out of you like he was oiling an old manual-crank engine. Eren can feel the heat radiating from your chest and thighs as your legs collapse around him in a dizzying transcendence of awareness.

His lips briefly touch yours though the fabric, then withdraw as his pace increases. Your moans grow louder, more intense, and more poignant as you feel the floodwaters in your mind disappear all together then reappear just as suddenly with a feverish bluster coating and soaking through your entire body.

You feel Eren widen his stroke, his hands gripping your wrists more seriously as he focuses on drawing himself nearly as far out as he can manage cleanly, then cramming himself back into you with as much fervor as he dare to keep himself on track and you off balance.

It works. Spectacularly.

Your shaded eyes fade in and out as the tidal waters melt through you with increasing ease. You feel your belly warm mightily and your legs clench up against him as the forefront of your climax overcomes your muscle control. A second later the torrent of electrochemical sensations surge through your cells, their chemistry awry with the coital electricity sapping their normal feelings into some other dimension.

Eren continues his pace with a determined goal.

The torrent of ecstasy eases partially, the feeling of your flanks first trickling back to mind as your eyes reopen through the orange tinted fabric. Coolness sinks into your toes and feet, abruptly cut off by the continued warmth of everything north of your shins minus your breasts.

You can feel him disengage, rapidly throwing himself back against the bed while breathing heavily. A quick self-inspection sweeps through your body, noticing that his seed is absent of your womb nor air apparent on any of your skin.

The ability of your left brain to think clearly, rationally drips back to mind. Recognizing his breathing is less effort from raw physical exertion and more to keep himself sexually focused for the moments his conscious and sub-consciousness are disconnected.

You grunt, a hint of labor in your voice as you spring yourself forward. Removing your blinder and crawling up between his hips you wrap your hand around his engorged shaft, a firm enticing grip wheedling up his length.

Eren’s eyes catch yours as you look up at him, still a bit dazed from the lingering effects of your orgasm pooling in your chest. You slip your lips over his head, flicking your tongue side to side as you sink down and taste the mix of fluids coating him.

A few rocks of your head get you near the bottom, just within reach of your tongue. Darting your tongue out from under him, you lap at the space between his scrotum and his inflation. His eyes haze over at the feeling as it drenches his active thoughts.

Several of his breaths pass as you hold yourself down, building up the pressures in him until they break through to his culmination.

Feeling his erection tense up in your mouth and throat, you withdraw until a little more than his head is held in your mouth. You breathe through your nose quick, before you feel the first jet of cum flow into your mouth.

Thankfully it is just slow enough to get a full, sharp breath in.

The first burst of sultry white liquid sinks over your tongue. You make no delay in tasting nor in swallowing, exaggerating your throat muscles for him as you tilt your head to the side slightly for so he may see you guzzle down each wave between pulses. A full four jets stream into your mouth before the flow abates and you let your lips drop deeper over his skin, loosely coasting down him until reaching a near depth.

You tighten your lips and draw up his full length, cleaning him dutifully.

Eren, arms slack to the floor at his sides, loosing a drained smile from his lips while looking down at you.

You flip your legs into the air, idly dancing them around as you tease a few kisses to his head.

His grin widens, then breaks into words, “Had to break in the new house, eh?”

Withdrawing, sitting upright and edging closer to him as you wrap your arms around his waist, you respond with a partially hidden smile of your own, “ _Perhaps._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more stories for this collection are in-progress, one in review and the other about 1/4th complete at time of posting this chapter. The first is a fairly lengthy 1st person present request and the second is a 3rd/2nd person past request.  
> -  
> T/W and tags: Romantic/tender, play fighting, cunnilingus, now & zen/side-side, lazy girl/the dragon, and creampie.  
> Request details: Self-publish. Male Reader x Mikasa, Modern AU (though also ambiguous). 2nd person present(ish) perspective.

You walk through the hallway towards the living room, silently fuming under the drizzling clouds of melancholy. Your face is bland, tired. Back and shoulders are slumped and weakened, disinterested, and unwilling to keep a proper posture.

Mikasa is sitting on the couch, her legs partially curled up onto the cushion with a book in her hands. Her attention shifts to you as you walk in, the book fraying from her focus as she nonchalantly marks her place. She gives you a short, interested smile as you round the corner of the couch.

Plopping onto the couch with a loud sigh, you turn to her squarely. A similarly short, interested smile creeps up your lips as you lean in towards her. Groaning loudly in mental anguish, you bury your face between her breasts with gusto, happily recognizing the lack of a bra. Rubbing your cheekbones against the mounds on either side of your face, your nose brushes against her sternum as the welcoming gaiety begins displacing your nebulous blues.

She giggles loudly, her hands brushing through your hair wordlessly.

You cut your shoulder into the couch between her and the backrest, wedging yourself between her and the seat. Arms wrap around her lower back and twist her away from the couch. The moment you can slip your hand under her butt you wrap your spare arm around her, too. A firm jerk-tugging motion wrests her from her seat, sliding yourself under her and pulling her on top of you.

Her giggling rises to a hearty laugh, a short yelp sprouting from her throat as you catch her on top of yourself and bury your head between her breasts again. The arm around her waist feels her arm grab behind her, latching onto the arm below her butt. Her other arm presses against the couch beside your head, trying to steady herself while laughing. You rub your face into her, enjoying the warm feeling of her mounds against the sides of your face.

Mumbling something incoherent into her, she speaks clearly, “Hmmm... Hi-ya Babe!” You can’t see her smiling, but you can feel it in her chest, warm and wide. Her chin touches the top of your head as she looks down at you vainly.

Again, you mumble something incomprehensible into her chest, coming out as a choppy, muffled groan. No matter. The words aren’t important anyhow; the important part is the feeling of holding your woman close to the chest. And the joyful embrace of her breasts around your face, draining away the unwelcome dejection previously looming in your head.

Seconds tick by in silence and stillness as you hold her to you, her straining at the slight asymmetry of balance while she enjoys your affection.

She begins to say something, feeling the rush of air in her lungs vibrating her chest. You rub your face into her again, relishing the ever-inviting bosom.

“Is there something I can do for you, Babe?” Mikasa asks ardently, trying to run the fingers of her supporting arm through your hair as she looks at the mass of hair hiding your face under her chest.

You mumble into her chest once more. She still cannot understand you.

Her legs straddle you, legs folding to themselves as she pushes against the couch to sit up. You relax your grip around her waist and butt, letting her rise. She grinds herself into your waist as she sits up, a hand on your chest with an inviting smile still gracing her face.

You grin at her with a nod, repeating yourself now that her chest is not hiding your words while rubbing your hands over her thighs, “Take off your shirt.”

Mikasa leans a bit more weight forward onto the hand on your chest, “Oh? Me?” Her thighs clench around your waist just a smidge, enough to tease you while she leads you on. You give a quick frown, knowing full well she teases you, waiting for action. A quick wrap of your hands coast behind her legs and cup her ass, a full and hearty grope returning your own ardent, amorous teasing since you cannot motorboat her again.

She flashes a toothy smile at you, her head slipping to the side, letting her bangs curtain over her face as your eyes meet. Her hands withdraw to her flanks, slow and inducing. Your eyes float down to watch her hands. One by one, you watch her fingers curl under the fabric of her shirt. Tedious. Agonizing, her pace.

Your eyes flick up to her face. She wears her skin to haunt your desire; warm and welcoming, but deliberately languishing and enjoying the torturous pacing she’s forcing upon you. Retracting your hands from her butt, you spread your hands wide over the fabric covering the junction between her legs and hips. Fingertips press into her anxiously, the alluring flutter of seeing her naked rising up in your chest, making you feel lighter than you are.

The fabric rises over her belly, revealing the tight rumples of her abs and navel. You press your legs into the couch, pressuring your hips into hers. She completely ignores you, continuing the taunting, monotonous pace of lifting her shirt from her skin. The bottom reaches of her tender flesh bleed into light. Your eyes widen, bathing in the familiar beauty as if it were still a first.

Unable and unwilling to contain yourself, your hands skim up from her legs, breezing over her smooth skin at a pace faster than her withdrawal. Her taught nipples pop into view with an unassuming bounce, dropping from the confines of her shirt as it folds up over her shoulders. Arms extended, her whole upper body exposed to you minus her head for the moment it takes her to tug the shirt from her face, your hands wrap around her breasts mirthfully. The supple skin tingles below your touch, a smile spreading across her face as she relishes the circumfuse touches.

Her abs flex, drawing her hips and waist side to side as her mind begins dancing to your caresses. Your legs dig into the couch, grinding yourself into her for just a brief moment before pushing her over into you. Her chest falls to your face and you quickly envelope a breast with your mouth. Sucking on the sensitive flesh and wicking your tongue around her nipple until her whole tit is soaked in a film of saliva. You feel her thighs and hips scrunch into you, a clear reaction to her mind swimming around in the pleasant aroma generated by your suckling, encouraging your insistence.

As you drag your face across her chest to her unsoaked breast, your hands wander over her back, tracing down her spine and wrapping around her in spontaneous moments. Your mouth droops open and closes around her breast with a desultory haze. She hums, steady and even as your lips and tongue repeat their adventures. A quick chirp of excitement shoots from her mouth when you graze your teeth over her nipple, gently biting down enough to galvanize her rushing thoughts even further.

You feel her chin press against the top of your head, her fingers combing through either side of your head as you oscillate your head up and down, spreading your wet touch over the whole of her breast with a subsuming vitality. Her hum charms through her chest again, vibrating your head against her steady fingers. She kisses your hair, a hot breath rolling over your ears as you drag your tongue through the space between her tender mounds of skin. Aimless and adventurous, tasting the debonair skin of her chest, sure to wet it all.

Mikasa’s chest expands into your face, a crisp breath inflating her lungs. You run a hand up her back, mirroring your pacing as you trail kisses up her sternum towards her neck. She hums and moans, feeling the trails creeping upward. Your hand slips into her silky black hair, the skin of your fingers rubbing against her scalp with a light pressure. Reaching the end of your ambit, your fingers clutch her hair and gently tug her head back until she rises from you enough to skirt yourself back to continue trailing your lips up to her neck.

Two, three affectionate kisses dot her lower neck around the protrusions of stretching tendons. Her legs clasp around you again, signaling her swirling mind reveling in the tenderhearted feeling of your adoring lips. Your eyes flick upward, catching the disconnected look of her eyes, unfocused and distant as her mind resides elsewhere. She must have felt your eyelashes brush against her because her chin dips toward you, a lurid breath rolling over your face and chest.

You sink your teeth into her neck, a sharp contrast to the warm, tender trail of kisses you’ve been drawing up from her breasts. Her chest and throat rumble in a wonderful yelp, a mix of pain and pleasure being mushed and confused together by her brain. Increasing pressure tugs on her skin as you seal your lips around the bite and suckle roughly. A few seconds of pressure leave a dark red mark on her neck beside her left collarbone.

Her eyes roll around, mind still turbulent from the hickey.

Inching your lips up a few centimeters, you repeat the vampristic bite. Your fingers leave her hair and join your other hand on her pants, quickly slipping beneath her and unbuttoning her pants. A swift zip sweeps the zipper apart and the top of her jeans blossom open. Ten digits hook around the hem of her jeans above her butt and pull hastily. Mikasa unfurls her legs instinctively, allowing you to tug down the taught fabric past her hips and thighs.

Your lips and teeth leave her neck, head craning forward enough to look down at your arms working her clothing off. Her chest heaves, head spinning around to adjust herself so the pants can disappear. She stands, leaving your hands behind as her hands take their place. She stumbles on the uneven cushions, her foot thumping to the couch to regain her balance. A roll and pivot has her on the floor, rabidly ripping the cloth from her legs. Her pants fly away in a blur, seeing her hands shoot to the thin underwear covering her nether region straight away.

Before the fabric scrapes past her feet, you roll off the couch, timing your movement to her leaving the cloth behind completely. You catch yourself on both hands and feet above her, pirouetting her to her back and pressing her prone to the floor beside the couch. Her hair whips around as she turns her head rapidly, an eye darting around to meet yours. A flash of an arm hooks under your hand, catching you and tossing you to your side away from the couch.

Finding yourself on your back, face up as she throws her leg over top of your waist, you recognize the struggle for power. Before she can plant her leg on the opposite side, you knee her single support and shove a hand against her side throwing her off balance. A curt shove crunches her back to the floor, your hands clasped on her wrists to prevent her from maneuvering as you clamor over top of her. But she is not giving up so easily.

A twist of her arm throws your grip of her wrist and finds it shooting into your armpit, using your momentum with an assist from her shin to toss you against the couch. A crash and clump breaks you into the floor, wedged against the couch and the uncomfortable jutting of the hardcover book into your side. She jumps to a crouch, her hands tugging on your arm to pull you away from the couch so she can straddle you. But _you_ are not giving up so easily, either.

You extend an arm, stiff-arming her to prevent her from jumping you. Your legs kick out, sweeping her feet from under her and dropping her to the floor just as quickly as she tossed you aside like a stuffed animal. Her legs are curled to her chest, recoiling from the fall on her side. A smooth draw slides your arms under the crooks of her legs, your body pushing forward over top of her.

She counters by pinching her legs to your shoulders and forcefully shoving herself from the floor with her arms. You careen backwards, landing heavily between her legs. Mikasa has you pinned, your back to the floor and her grip solid, resolute.

You cock a brow at her as she looks down at you with a satisfied grin. Her body shakes as you try to lever your legs out of the lock, but you fail totally. The grin spreads.

“Take your pants off,” she commands you in return.

Your eyes meet, and you resign yourself to the position. You arch your butt off the ground and fumble with the latches holding your pants snug to your waist. A flick later you draw them down from your waist to your legs. But you are unable to proceed much further, blocked by her arresting weight and grip on you.

She feels you settle down, relaxing her grip on your shoulders and raising herself while you try to wick away the cloth by using your feet. Mikasa nudges herself forward until your lips can fasten to hers. Eyes linger together as her body shrinks your vision; the lower half taken up by the quotidian curves of her body. You crease your lips as she finishes shimmying forward, allowing the tension of your eye contact to build her anticipation before dipping your head forward enough to fasten your lips around her nether.

She buzzes loudly, lungs humming out with an invariance as her mind flips around in her head. You pinch your lips together, collecting the folds of skin between them before darting your tongue out into her without restraint. Lifting your head from the floor and pressing home your advance eagerly, her arms lax at her side. Managing to get your pants most of the way off, you writhe your tongue around until she drops her guard as quickly as she asserted herself.

Her body mellows, mindfulness lost totally to the sensations derived from your mouth. You persist for seconds, watching her carefully as her body continues to melt from under herself – oblivious to you kicking your pants away with a fury. Hands rise through the air silently. Pressing your head into her fully, you tighten your lips to her and bury your tongue within her as far as possible. The assault on her senses strips her consciousness from its situational awareness.

A flash of skin changes the dynamics resolutely. Mikasa lies on her back, her eyes spinning scarcely as she recognizes she is back on the ground. You crawl up beside her after removing the remaining clothing clinging to yourself, running an arm up her centerline until your hand braces around her throat. A gentle tug with both arms flips her onto her side, facing away from you. Your head rests above hers as her eyes cross to look at you out of the side of her vision. Grinning back at her you tighten your grip on her neck a touch, enough to pinch your fingers behind her jaw line firmly.

Mikasa’s back tenses up as she feels your solid head press into her, sweeping right past the threshold of resistance and filling her. Your arm braces to her chest snugly, pulling her tight to your chest as you slide yourself into her. Her chest rumbles, a groan breaking through her throat and vibrating your hand with a satisfactory joy.

A full breath stroke pulls yourself out and buries yourself within her again. Her groan intensifies, eyes closing firmly for a moment before reopening and looking at you again.

You repeat the movement, further tightening your support over her chest and neck. She pivots her head, resting the back of her head on the floor as she looks at you for a kiss.

Mirroring her, you meet her desire. Pressing your lips to hers as you readjust your hand’s grip on her neck. Her open arm wraps around yours, following the contours of your bracing arm splendidly as her head swims.

The intoxication breaks through your initial defenses, having been focused on changing the power dynamic to retake control, now having it. Heat from her core soaks around your shaft, spreading through you as if you were inside her cave completely. Your kiss breaks for a brief instant as you pound yourself into her, jolting her body beside you. She quickly closes the distance, eagerly reconnecting your lips as she feels you withdraw again.

A swift contraction repeats your grind, feeling her legs flex as it shoots another elatory signal through her whole body. Two quick pulses follow, increasing your pace as the kiss breaks. You increase your force, transitioning more into a push than merely a rub.

Combined with a shove with your upper body, you push her over onto her belly. The arm between her breast’s spreads to the outside, bracing yourself above her while maintaining its grasp. A gentle pressure raises her head perpendicular to the floor. You bolster your free elbow against her shoulder and clamp your hand over her mouth as you blow past your previous pacing.

Ramming yourself into her furiously, devoted to destroying whatever semblance of cognizance she has remaining. Her throat rumbles again, trying to speak through your hand.

You double down: tightening your knees around her thighs, strengthening the cover over her mouth, compacting your arms about her, and increasing the feverishness of your drilling.

Again, you feel her groan through your hands. You press yourself into her, feeling her firm, round butt press back against your onrush.

“ _Shhhh_ …” you hiss sharply. Gritting your teeth and commanding her, “Be quiet my Slut.” You tip your head forward far enough to brush your lips against her ear and continue, “Just dwell in it…”

You are sure you feel a tiny whimper as her body shivers but choose to ignore it as you return to your rampage. Arms flex tremendously as your straining expands. Another groan dissolves through her throat, but it is distant and weak.

The growing flood of heat swells up through your core, feeling the grip of her slick walls collapsing around you, testing your senses. It cannot last, it is too great. You allow yourself a few more pleasure filled thrusts, then release yourself.

A single, lusty swoop grinds your hips into her butt. Burying yourself within her as your body flexes exquisitely. Your erection flaring within her, the torrent of ecstasy shooting through your lower body and streaking into mind blindly.

You feel yourself burst forth, waves of cum inundating her interior in great swells.

Her body tenses suddenly, then relaxes nearly as rapidly. Must be her own climax. You feel her body shiver beneath you.

Hands shake free, the cool rush of post-climax euphoria draining through your body. Her head falls to your hand, her breathing thick and heavy over your skin. You wait a few breaths, holding yourself deep within her before withdrawing. A packed thud as your body hits the floor beside her.

Mikasa lays on the floor next to you, still breathing eminently for what feels like several minutes. After a few seconds you give in to the lingering desire to touch her – your hands brushing over her sides and tracing lines up and down her back thoughtfully.

Her shoulders rise, lifting her head from the floor enough to twist her head around towards you. She flops back to the floor, now facing you. The swells of her breath roll down your sweaty, naked bodies. Eyes meet, dancing between one another’s in silence.

Seconds pass as more waves of warm air bleed away into the air between you.

Finally, she breaks into a wide grin. Her eyebrows raising adamantly. Your hand stops, resting on the small of her back. Returning the smile, you feel your body steady, breath finally caught up to your energy expenditure.

She shifts slightly, closing the distance between you a bit.

A curt smirk streaks over your face as you move your hand south, cupping her butt with a firm grope. “Mine.”

She suppresses a snort, the same smile returning to her face before giving you a cinching nod. Her arms push her up from the floor, hands pasting to your chest as she walks herself over you and partially lays on top of you while she seeks a closing kiss.

Mikasa’s arms and hands stick to you, pasted by the heat and thin film of sweat as her breasts squish against you, her head dipping to yours until lips touch. You give her ass another quick squeeze, enjoying the private feeling as the kiss breaks. She drops her weight to your chest, her breath catching up with her ecstasy as she huffs in the post-coital bliss draining away to sobriety.

You wrap your arms around her back, saying nothing.

Simply enjoying the peaceful privacy of two bodies breathing together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: Cunnlingus, push-up position, and facial.  
> Request details: Female Reader x Eren, Modern AU. 1st person present perspective. Any additional details at my discretion.

Pacing around the grand piano in the center of the room, lengthening my gait to stretch my legs from an hour’s worth of practice. In the cool starlight and dim beam of a waxing gibbous flooding the rest of the room in a flourish of reflecting, dancing sunlight I stand straight and strain my arms toward the ceiling of the moonroom. My fingers curl in, out towards the exterior walls as the crisp chill of a relaxing wave sweeps through my legs, up my back, and into my arms.

I can feel my eyes strain as I momentarily let my attention skirt around the room, quickly finding nothing in the room drawing my eye. The twinkling of hundreds of stars seep through the massive glass panes above me, drawing my gaze as my mind insolubly expands within the vast expanse of the universe. My arms fall to my sides as the stars hold my regard away from the gravity bounding me to the minute, solitary speck of a planet in the astronomical emptiness of space.

Another chill runs through me, head to toe, outside in as the unrealizable scale of our existence creeps through my awareness. First facile, then amplifying incorrigibly as the simple inability to fully appreciate the scales to which I am viewing distant stars blows so far beyond mortal comprehension to be nearly useless.

_Well, useless for me. Here and now, anyways. I’m sure others…_

The lofty awareness drips from mind, refocusing on the silence of the room. The silence previously broken by steady, rhythmic pings of my fingers over the keys of the piano until the last few minutes. I shake my head and resettle my thoughts on the music, envisioning my fingers stroking over the keys for the umpteenth time in a more perfect, crisp key following Debussy’s classic Arabesque No 2.

A sinking feeling drives through me, making my arms and legs feel heavy. Dense. _Doubt_ … _I am doubting myself._

I strike the thought and stand straight, meditating for a moment to clear my head. _Focus. Eyes… back and forth… breathing… in… and out. In…_

My back tenses, wearily responding to my command as the bodily fatigue reminds itself. Legs and back align, just a brief moment as I collect myself again and toe around the piano with a deliberate grace. A few steps anndd I am back at the bench, my feet at attention for a moment longer. Each foot settles on the outer pedals and my hands sweep over the smooth, white-polished keys into the starting notes of the classic.

A flutter of my fingers trill the opening notes perfectly. My hands pace back and forth as I recite the early seconds of the piece. Steady, smooth. The first thirty seconds flow clean and crisp. Fingers settle into the brief respite before another flourish comfortably. Some feeling rises up the back of my spine.

I cannot ignore it as I push my hands forward and my feet maneuver over the pedals curtly. A few notes fall off timing. The dim red light coordinated by the piano’s computer pulses over the mistiming keys, further alerting me to my errors. Pushing the panic down, I cast aside the strange awareness and press on. Recovering well enough to hear the music catch up with my memory and my rigor well enough to lift my spirit.

But that feeling creeps right back in. Even more potent and _now_. I try to crimp it back into its place, but it remains resolute and emblazing. I divide myself between the tasks, keeping my fingers and feet in close harmony with the music as I again try to shove the feeling back down into a corner while I practice my craft.

It is as determined and stalwart as my partner.

_Ah_. The smile spreads over my lips faster than I realize.

I slick my eyes to the side and see Eren sitting quietly on the wall-mounted bench stretching the length of the windowed wall. His hands resting on his head with a leg up, resting on the other as he beams at me from the gloomy shadows. Eyeing him carefully, my arms dance over the keys to hit the varying notes accompanying the last third of the euphonious strums. The harmony of music streams back into mind and my consciousness sinks into the familiar, cozy tones filling the air.

My eyes close as the memory of the piece flows free and I hum along with the script neatly.

Calm settles over me. I jump, feeling Eren’s arms wrap around me from behind. His hands coast over my arms. The mass delays a band of music and my mood droops into the sully along with it.

I completely lose pace with the music and feel my voice shrill up through my throat as I protest his intrusion. His digits lift the cover of the digital controls and he fingers the dashboard to command the computer to continue the piece automatically and on repeat.

My hands slump into my lap as I turn to look at him. Disappointment wells up as I ruminate over teaching him the only thing he knows about our marvelous, modern grand piano. The music continues perfectly, but its computerization conflicts with my conscious will and the effects of my body on the piano commanding its attentions.

The heat of his body bathes my back. His arms sweep around me, collecting my loose arms under his own as he tightens his grip.

“What do you want,” the tone is a little sharper than I intend, but it gets my point across candidly and I settle with it.

I sense him withdraw intangibly. It lasts but a fraction of a second as his determination sweeps right back in to push against whatever his opposition. His grip remains solid, saying nothing. I try to turn into him, advancing my irritation with his seemingly unguided breach. But it is certainly not unguided, though. He has some angle to it that I have not caught yet.

Persistent pressure breaks his grip. I spin around on the bench and face him, fitting a terse posture to myself as I focus on him. The computer continues the music, but I pay it little mind as he steps aside and turns to sit on the bench with me. Comparative silence ticks by as I look at him, waiting for _some_ comment.

My gaze roots into him, resonating with my corrupted mood as he remains openly placid. A slight slime creeps up his lips. But I am patient. I know the silence will get to him, eventually. _He is the one who interrupted a solid band of that patience with whatever his embrace is_. Pressing it home will make him uncomfortable. Enough that he will crack and say, or do, _something_ , at least…

Silence continues to float past. Seconds tick by. My focus on him makes no outward fractures, but his posture and, moreover, the minute details of his extremities and his cheeks belie an inner discomfort. No doubt a growing turmoil with my bothersome reticence and doggedness.

Ah. Sure enough, he’s squirming now.

I furrow my brow, deepening my unspoken criticism to hone the point to his break. He shrinks from me, his arm dropping from around my waist. The thump of his arm on the bench weakly echoes through the room with an awkward interruption of the forced silence – the continuing strum of the piano by strokes of automation still loosely backdropping against our dearth of conversation. The computer strings into the shuttering series of contrasts near the end of its first full playthrough. My eyes narrow on Eren’s face, seeing his jawline tense and his eyes dart between mine uncertainly. Clearing my throat finally coaxes it out of him.

“What’d I do?”

I look at him flatly, my disappointment in him swelling up again. “Need I really tell you?”

Eren shakes his head side to side gently, already knowing that he intruded on me and that is why I am irritated. I doubt that he catches my discontent with his lackluster knowledge of the piano. He remains still for a moment, appearing to be contemplative beyond his body language recognizing his wrong. My eyelids shoot apart and I tip my head back while taking a deep breath. Before I can speak, he does.

“Ahh.. maybe you can teach me, some?” his tone is timid and unsure.

I snap my head to the side to look at him, letting my hair furl outward a bit to dramatize my attitude. “Can I? Or will I?”

His posture shrinks a bit again, clearly my intimidation working on him as he regrets himself. I continue looking at him, letting my face settle into a more neutral tone to encourage him to think without the interference. I can work with either answer, teaching him or him walking away. Just so long as I continue to get my disappointment across enough that he learns something more permanent. As I reconsider my questions, I wonder if he sees both options as some sort of passive-aggressive trap – one that he has no way around, and thus explaining his ongoing silence. Maybe that is a good thing. Though, I can see that I should not let it persist for too long. I do need to be rather careful of how I snip this conversation.

I turn around on the bench and flick the control panel open. Two taps stop the computer’s automatic sounding. His attention follows me, obviously a step behind my actions as I can sense his gaze on my back and not my hands through my peripheral vision. Another deep breath. Pivoting toward his back near the piano, I face him partially and begin deconstructing things.

“Do you know why I am irritated?” I try to keep my tone neutral, but a touch of the irritation leaks through, nonetheless. My brow raises as I wait for an answer – any answer, not just words. His shoulders tighten to his abdomen. Close enough. “You interrupt me practicing and then turn on the automation for… what? I know you usually have something in mind, especially since you know that this time is private. So, what is it? What is _soo_ important?” I toss my head back a bit as I stress my last question, my throat humming rather pleasantly.

Eren’s lips purse a bit, his body following behind his lips with a shrug in something of a wave. His pursing lips break into an unusually shy grin, “I.. was hungry.” I can see his eyes spark a bit as he tips his head toward me, with some clear intention to the action and the conjoining words. He straddles the bench.

I frown at him, thinking back the few hours to dinner. “We just ate dinner.”

His head jerks to the side as his eyes spark more intensely, eye contact with me obviously deepening. “That… is not what I mean.” The shy grin on his face spreading quickly into a wide, suggestive movement. He leans in toward me. Fingers trace up from my knee closest to him.

Contemplating his meaning, his other arm wraps around the far side of my waist and gives me a gentle tug. The hand tracing over my leg slows as it gets to the midpoint of my thigh. I cock an eyebrow at him as I gather his intention. Thinking back to his initial comment, I catch something to his tone, a hesitance, which leads me to think he is lying. Either by omission or outright, I am unsure. But I can work with it no less.

My conscious swirls a bit, feeling out the familiar joy of an orgasm against my irritation.

His hand dips between my legs but does not advance. I can feel the heat radiating from his body as he leans in a bit closer to me. He must have caught notice of my posture shift with a delicate care as my focus transitions to considering the ideas, the feelings on a deeper level.

I still have not said anything for a few seconds. Fingers brush back and forth between my thighs, teasing away my contemplation with physical stimulus. It works pretty well as my back straightens up quickly, the feeling of electricity charging up through my legs from his touches. I can feel my back relax before I command it, which he will take as acceptance… or at least, nonengagement.

Regardless of how he is taking it, his fingers bounce back and forth as he moves closer in the shrinking space between my legs. I cough gingerly, catching the feeling of a tingling pleasure radiating up through my waist into my throat without command and triggering an instinctive groan. _Now_ he is taking my lack of response as not being a denial. His fingers grate against the fabric of my crotch, a single digit more forceful and centered than the others. It shoots bolts of pleasure through my waist, rapidly creeping into my core whether I engage it or not.

My defenses begin eroding at a dramatic pace as he presses his advance, his fingers digging into the fabric even more deeply until I can feel his fingernail scrape the fabric through my valley. His arm tightens around me and his forehead brushes against mine as he holds his eye contact with me, despite my eyes flashing around the room and behind my eyelids as I struggle with competing inputs. The bench scuttles over the floor, a result of him scooting himself closer to me.

The warmth of his legs wrap around my flanks as he closes the gaps between us. More following him than I intend, he pulls me around until I must lift my legs onto the bench. Fingers swirl in tight patterns over my clothing, ebbing through the insulation to spread the suppressed bliss emanating from between my hips. He must feel my legs relax through his fingers.

Sure enough, he slips his whole hand between my legs and gropes me with one full hand, long and slow as he drags it back up me. My head lolls to the side and I catch his eye for a brief instant before his arm around my chest pulls my back tight to his chest. My walls recede completely as his body presses against me, the continuing stroke of his hand irradiating my body from the inside out.

I let a short moan slip from my lips. It triggers him completely, his body presses against me feverishly. Too much to stay on the bench. I find myself walking forward faster than my mind knows what my legs are doing as his lips caress my neck in uneven spurts, his body pressing me forward to the nearest wall and his whole hand grating up at down the seam of my pants.

His breath is hot on my neck each time a kiss breaks from my skin. I can feel the intensity of his body heat growing, whether it is my body kicking into overdrive or him actually heating up I don’t know and I don’t really care because my mind is completely caught up in the increasing singularity of the one-dimensional flow of my growing euphoria.

Intensity. His fingers. Grinding. Groping at me. Desperate. Heavy. Anxious and ambitious. My eyelids flutter shut as the clasps on my clothing break apart and his hand shoots under the fabric, skin to skin. Finally.

"Put your hands on the wall,” Eren commands me an instant after his lips leave my neck.

I barely feel him shift as my knees bump against the wall-length bench. His chin brushes over my left shoulder blade, barely recognizable through the radiance of his fingers slicking through the sensitive folds of skin between my legs. My legs shutter, uncommanded and uncontrollable as his fingers retract and circle around my clit with a wet smoothness only available by the natural lubrication of my labia. It sends streaks of color through my vision, dipping into my very consciousness as the sum of my body’s senses stack and fold in on themselves.

His erection presses into my back along with his lower body. My mind flashes back to what he said moments ago. I breathe deeply and drag a hand from the wall and slap the wrist I feel pasted to my waist through my tepid haze. “Ahh! You said…” my breathing and body feel heavy, obstructive, “you were _hungry_.” Breathing drags out far more audibly than I can feel it, “So _eat_ ,” I stress.

His whole body freezes save for his hand. Which continues to rub around my clit with a slow, distracting taste. I roll my head back, bumping into his because I did not know where he was. He snorts. A jet of air shoots through my hair. My senses fade back into cognizance as his pacing slows from the rapid build that pushed us to the wall.

I roll my head back against his shoulder as his fingers stir up again. My eyes catch with his and I flash an energizing smile at him. He shuts me up with a firm streak of his fingers through me. Muscles tense up and I rise to my full height for a trice as his fingers press home, either in retaliation or encouragement. Maybe both.

His hand disappears entirely within the dark cave of my pants. Fingers coast past my skin and sink their tips into me. Eren leans into me again, more with his chest and less with his waist this time around.

Probably both.

My head tips forward and my eyes close on themselves, darkness spreading over my vision as opposing streaks of light coat my perceptions. I feel my legs buckle from underneath me, the ground and cushions sweeping up at me as I fall over. Eren catches me and lowers me side-first onto the dimly lit padding. He rolls me onto my back as my eyes open, his hand withdrawing from their depths.

I roll my head around on the soft bench, briefly looking down at him settling a knee onto the rest and working his hands under the hem of my pants. A giggle trickles from my throat as I scrape over the fabric, being pull over the fibers by vigorous thrusts of his arms yanking my pants down my legs. He manages to get one leg off, immediately focusing on the other and stripping it from me with a certain ruthlessness. It makes me smile.

A violent whisk slaps the blue blur to the floor with a curt flop. Fractions of a second follow before his hands are on me again, skipping over the bare skin of my thighs and hooking around the thinner fabric covering my waist. I look down at him again, briefly making eye contact with him over my waist. A scintillation zaps between us as I can see his face even, steady. His lips curl upward, warm, and I suspect being premeditated.

Singular and smooth, his hands begin drawing my underwear down my legs with a dire contrast to the fury with which he removed my pants. His eye contact is uneven, shifting back and forth between his work and my attention. The fabric brushes over my shins and skip off my feet. He tosses them away much less thoughtfully, resting his attention with my onlooking. I watch them flutter to the ground unceremoniously.

As his hands drift toward me I take the opportunity to strip my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in a rush. Arching my back, I dip my hands below myself and unclasp the bra strap biting into me while my back was resting on the bench. I whisk the bra away, letting it fall to the floor somewhere in the room while Eren’s fingers trace down from my inner thighs. My head lifts from the cushion as I drop my back to the bench, looking down at him inching toward me. His breath is warm, rolling over my legs tickling my nerves.

His hair brushes against my legs as he tilts his head side to side, tracing down my thighs with the flanks of his head, appearing very deliberately so. My eyes recoil as I feel his lips kiss me, legs tensing inward toward the source as the shock ripples through me. The sensation hums through my body, particularly powerful as it shoots through my skin. Delicate touches of his lips press against my skin folds, each flexing my legs in pulses as his lips retract and return.

I can’t help but coo as Eren’s tongue circles around my clit in careful, firm strokes. Hair falls from his head unevenly, tingling my sensitive skin so much its nearly painful. My legs tense up consistently while I raise my head and lift a finger to draw his bangs aside. His eyes flick up to me, tongue stroking over me with a pointed tip as he makes eye contact. I try to ignore the warm feeling bubble up through my chest just long enough to hook some of his hair behind his ears, just enough so it no longer burdens me.

My hand slumps to the bench, the electricity of his wet mouth contacting me seeping more and more into mind, consciousness narrowing. Dragging me down. Down. Down into the embracing abysm of flowing euphoric tides. I feel like my body is light, airy, and yet tiny and dense at the same time. The feeling only grows as his head descends further between my legs, working his tongue down from the bundle of nerves toward my restricted entrance.

The down fabric of the bench dampens my head dropping, shaking my head enough to remind me of my mortality but not nearly enough to detract from the storm surge rising in my mind. A few stray hairs break from his ear and glide down the side of my legs, making me twinge again. But they are not as many, nor are they brushing against the sensitive skin between my legs anymore. Besides, his mouth is just _delectable_.

I purr openly. My chest hums even more deeply as he takes the encouragement to heart and presses himself into me full and bright. His eyes barely peek up at me, hidden between my legs and breasts as I briefly raise my head again. It lasts for a second. Our eyes break and I feel his tongue trace down to the bottom of my trench, pressing against the opening with a firm pressure. A sharp breath fills my lungs as I feel his nose slip over the crest of my waist and my walls part to his advancing tongue.

My hum cuts off abruptly, streaking into a whiny gasp as the breadth of his tongue wriggles past the only barrier to be had. Thoughts fail to connect with one another as they spontaneously evaporate into the feeling abyss of ecstasy rising up beyond the physical confines of my chest. Head swimming, the temperate ease of coolness sinks into my mind, washing away the few remaining whisps of would-be thoughts. His teeth rub against my skin, extending his tongue to its maximum as he pleasures me.

The tip of his tongue writhes around inside me, sparking whitewashes of waves cresting and crashing through my body in unpredictable patterns. Its waters inevitably rising, nothing to resist them as I continue to bathe in the feeling. My legs flush cold, the feeling reaching an abrupt stop just above my hips. The coolness mixes with the heat of my core, his tongue swirling the strange currents around with a multiplicity. Eyelids flutter. The bearing of the floodwaters breaching the physical ambit of my body, propelling my mind into ethereal landscapes – or lack thereof – unseeingly pockmarked with acute landmines of pleasure. His tongue propelling me ever forward, bursting the mines into me without foresight or planning. Just, presence.

I notice his arms wrap under my legs, fingers curling over the tops of my thighs and pressing into my skin. He pulls me toward him, sitting up as he withdraws his head enough to accomplish the task. My eyelids flood open, dazzling myself in the mild light coating the room. I draw another breath just as he pulls a firm yank on my body, dragging my waist up to his mouth as he sits nearly upright. His tongue dives back into me with just a minor hesitation, collecting me in his arms well enough to support my weight.

The rush of my entrancing pleasure sweeps right back in, as if it had never parted with me for a second. His tongue sweeps through me, reclaiming the ground it temporarily rescinded with a gaudy haste. I feel my chest hum, the warm bubbly feelings surging through my body faster than I can recognize them.

Eren presses his advance, burying his face between my legs. In a brief awareness, I hook my legs over his shoulders, digging my heels into his back as the pleasure radiating through my body becomes tedious, ironically painful even…

I notice him peek over at me, perhaps in response to my heels digging into his back. I’m not sure…

But his response seems to pick up from my turbulent wish to reach my climax. Tongue and lips not only persist, but hone inward. The pleasure bleeds through my inside, swelling to the point that things just melt around me. Walls appear to drain away in the brief instant it takes to close my eyes again.

My body’s response is emphatic and instantaneous – white-yellow colors flash over my eye lids as my body arches, a squall of electricity shoots though my back, into my extremities. I feel my fingers twitching behind my awareness, snippets of the world filtering through my brain inconsistently as I swirl in amatory euphoria. A rush of cold sweeps through my body. A rush of heat flows through my body. My eyes wither open for a wink, seeing Eren continuing to stroke his tongue through me. The sensitivity is so intense I can barely feel him. It is all lost in a nebulous blur, eroding away the very instant a thought or feeling of awareness comes to mind.

I lose track of time.

I awake sometime later, probably less than a minute. But it could have been hours so far as my advertence goes.

I am lying on the bench still, my legs hinged together and resting against the wall. Eren must have put me down, because I do not remember dismounting him nor resting. He flashes a smile at me.

I bite my lip, stealthily. Then flash a smile back at him.

He paws up to me, his hands walking over the cushions until he rests himself above me. His hair falls from his head and from behind his ears, tickling my cheeks. I exhale sharply, trying to blow some of the stray hairs away so I can look at him straight and clear.

Regardless, if he is aware of what I am trying, his hands brace my shoulders, moving me away from the wall gently. My skin skims over the fabric as he hefts me from its comfort. Lowering my shoulders to the floor, his hands slick down to my hips, then back to the floor behind my head. His knees rest on the back edge of the bench as he maneuvers himself around until his arms are straight, taught beside my head with his palms to the floor.

I bite my lip again as I recognize his positioning. He smirks at me, pressing his erect head into me. My abs flex, the feeling of him filling me at a steep angle shattering the recouperation taking place in my mind. Eren thrums himself through me, striking away any of the sobriety that was momentarily materializing.

My eyes flutter shut again. The gladdening rush of his member coaxing my muscles out of their tenure. I slump to the floor, my hips sinking below the bench as I fail to wholly catch myself on the bench for the moment. But I quickly tighten my legs, pulling my lower body back up into his thrusts.

The synchronicity flourishes in my head.

My core reheats in a flash, the temperature of the far away stars hanging above us in the moonroom as a lofty yet reasonable comparison. The previous streaks of color shift into five and six pointed stars pirouetting about my abidance. Antsy energy ebbs through my waist as he strokes himself into me in a long, firm collapse. His eyes meet mine as I reopen them, but just for the fleeting moment before they shrink behind my eyelids again as a fresh suit of titillation tingles through my body.

I feel my throat leak another groan, hearing it coming out at weak and at a high pitch.

His pacing increases, force multiplying with it. My body shudders under his exertion. The coldness encroaches on my skin, settling from the outside in in a rapid descent. Goosebumps spread over my forearms. I wrap my arms together over my chest, arms bouncing up and down over myself as he drives himself into me. My teeth chew on my lips, eyelids pinching shut even tighter as the looming ecstasy overshadows me.

The wave crashes into me, my body quivering as a result. My mind bends inward, then warps back out in an inversion so quick as to be nauseating. I gasp, letting the queasiness out through a full exhale, returning my mind to steep in the pleasure diffusing through me. A familiar rush of cold runs through me, with the tepid heat following quick on its heels. Its impression is more broad than last time. A wholesome embrace cast over the totality of my body without favoritism. The feeling deepens, dragging my mind down with it into a bottomless dégringolade.

The endless fall abates suddenly, my mind distorting back into a reality as a warm spurt of fluid splashes over my face. My eye dart’s open, looking up to see Eren’s pulsating erection spritzing me with his hot cum. I let my eye flutter shut, happily retreating to the toasty embrace of my lasting crescendo. But I do grace him with some return on his investment – allowing my jaw to hinge open slightly and my tongue to trace out from the confines of my lips.

His sweltering seed feels pleasant, but distant. Despite it being on my own face, its in another dimension only incompletely connecting back to my cognizance. A light taste of salt drips down my tongue to the back of my throat.

I think a few seconds pass after I recognize my rejoinder to the endless fall through my arcane pleasure, my chest swelling with a deep breath of air as I notice the persistent lack of air.

More uncertain time passes.

I open my eyes, numb and faraway. The subtle, cool light of the room flows into my eyes as a gentle reminder of my sentience. My feet are still planted on the bench, but my legs are weak and my back slouching against the floor. A quick tension tests my legs – enough to believe in their support. Spinning languidly, I overturn myself to look around the room, letting my legs fall to the floor with the rest of my body.

Eren is absent.

_One and done… tsk! So like him to skitter off like that…_

He reappears just as I finish my thought, clutching a towel to his chest. Still laying on the floor, I watch him walk up to me and stoop over. My lungs chirp at him as he gives me a whet spanking. A recoil shoots through my body as the crisp pain recedes. Lips purse together, tracing into a smirk as I feel his hand groping me gaily.

Eren smears his hand over my face, dragging his semen into a thorough coating. “Slut,” he snaps at me, “Clean yourself.” His fingers tickle back and forth between my legs as our eyes meet.

The towel splatters to the ground beside my head in a quick rush of air. He wipes his hands through the towel, then turns.

I watch him pace away from me, heading back into the main living spaces of our home in a momentary silence.

He turns back to me slightly before reaching the corner, his eyes squinting at me partially, “Do you even remember what song you were playing?”

My eyes squint, tracing sideways down to the floor as I cast my mind back to the eon prior to my summits.

_Claude Debussy’s Arabesque #2…_


End file.
